Shoebox
by andhopeto
Summary: Senior year of high school and Blaine's doing a lot more at McKinley than just studying or participating in Glee. It wasn't meant to be anything serious. It was supposed to be fun. Somewhere along the line, things got out of hand. Klaine, Blaine/Others


**Title:** Shoebox  
(or, _four times it didn't mean anything, and one time it meant too much_)

**Rating:** NC-17

**Spoilers:** Up through _2x14 – Blame it On the Alcohol_; ignores _2x15 – Sexy_

**Pairings:** Kurt/Blaine, Blaine/Others, Kurt/Blaine/Other; _scroll to bottom of fic to see all pairings listed_

**Summary:** Senior year of high school, and Blaine's doing a lot more at McKinley High than just studying or participating in Glee. It wasn't meant to be anything serious. It was supposed to be fun. Somewhere along the line, things got out of hand.

**Warnings/Contains:** Threesomes, sexual manipulation, a gay guy having sex with girls, pegging, bondage, D/s, dirty talk, orgasm denial, object insertion, non-consensual phone sex, voyeurism, potentially racist/homophobic/sexist/ableist/transphobic language / some problematic language in general (about as bad as you'll hear on the actual show), ponderings of sexuality, meaningless sex, jealousy, bottom!Blaine, bottom!Kurt, PoV shifts, angst, bad humor

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the rights to any of these characters. I simply dabble in this toybox.

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_x x x x x_

_Mike (and Tina)_

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Mike was nervous. Like, really nervous. But his parents were out of town, and Tina was staring at him expectantly, with that look in her eyes that told him she was really into whatever it was he was doing, so he peeled off his shirt.

It was actually kind of nice to see Blaine's expression, turned on and amazed, like he couldn't believe what he's seeing right in front of him, because the magic wore off with Tina months ago. She hadn't stared at his abs in wonder for ages, and it was enough to make a guy kind of self conscious about it.

They were in a rut, she said, and the best way to fix that was to shake things up a bit.

When she suggested a threesome, he was thinking more along the lines of the pretty Vietnamese girl in his advanced Algebra class who was always sucking on lollipops between classes, or that girl from Chinese school they both know who cut most of her hair off last year and dyed it bright green.

He wasn't expecting Blaine, who, yes, was part Asian, but also, was a boy.

Not that he had anything against, you know, gay guys, or gay sex or anything. He just never thought that he would ever actually do anything quite this gay, himself.

Blaine seemed nervous, but interested, and not at all shy about performing for Tina's benefit. That was a plus. Blaine had turned down Tina's suggestion when she brought it up to him, but two days later, Tina went to Mike saying he'd changed his mind, as long as he didn't have to have to do anything with her.

Mike was expecting Blaine to touch him. It was the entire point of this evening. But he wasn't expecting Blaine to duck down and lick his abs, tongue tracing the outlines on his stomach.

Mike gasped and leaned back on his elbows, staring at the wet, pink appendage trailing its way up and down his torso, stopping at his bellybutton to lick its way inside. He groaned, and realized that he was getting hard.

Apparently a dude's tongue wasn't all that different from a girl's, and Blaine seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

He looked over at Tina, and she had a hand pushed down the front of her skirt, her eyes wide, drinking in the sight of the two boys together.

Yeah. Tonight was going to be pretty great, even if there was one too many dicks in the equation. Not that Mike, you know, _judged_, in general terms. He just didn't think anyone he was having sex with should also have a penis.

Blaine soon had his fingers wrapped around his own dick, which Mike thought actually looked bigger than it really was when Blaine was holding it, because his fingers were deceptively delicate.

When he's waving them around in what Blaine likes to call dancing, (or what Mike privately calls _ohgodwhatareyoudoingthatisn'tdancingit'sembarrassing_ while it's happening,) they look bigger, squarer. His wrists seem more broad and masculine, the generous amount of body hair covering them adding to their expected girth

And it wasn't like it was gay for him to notice or anything. He just _noticed_. Like the way he noticed Kurt staring at Blaine during Glee when he thought no one was watching, or the way he noticed that Blaine would only stare back when Kurt's head was turned the other way.

But seeing Blaine's hand up close, they were well-kept, fingernails trimmed neatly and hands softer than a seventeen-year-old boy's hands should be. Or, at least, normally were. Mike wouldn't even notice, except that Tina had been sucking on them only a minute ago, getting them nice and wet as a makeshift lubricant as he jerked himself off.

Mike kind of wished Blaine would use his fingers on _him_, but quickly revised that thought when Blaine leaned over and took Mike into his mouth.

He hadn't even gone that far with Tina yet.

Definitely the best. night. ever.

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_x x x x x_

_Puck_

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Puck was a ladies' man. He could bag any chick he set his sights on. High school chicks, college chicks, MILFs, you name it. Puckzilla wanted for no one and nothing, and anything said to the contrary was a lie and an insult.

So when Kurt said that there was no way a gay guy would ever go for him, he figured, fuck that, man. He could totally get some gayboy ass. How hard could it be?

He hadn't expected Blaine to be quite that easy, though. If Kurt was to be believed with all the whining he did at the end of last year, the guy was totally oblivious, and it would take more than a blinking neon sign to get him to catch a clue.

Puck _did_ actually attention to people he wasn't fucking, or wanted to be fucking. Sometimes. At least, enough to remember that Blaine had been aggressively invested in some of the college teams during the earlier part of the season, although that was mostly because he was kind of shocked that a fairy like Blaine would sit down to watch a sports show voluntarily.

All Puck said to Blaine was, 'Hey, want to come over sometime to watch football?'

Somehow, that led to Puck kneeling behind Blaine in his bed, two of Blaine's fingers deep in his own ass and two of Puck's pressed up tight against them.

Puck had done anal before. No problem. Cougars were kinky broads, and a little assplay was nothing new by now. But Puck had to say he was impressed.

He'd never seen anybody that _into_ it before. He wondered if it was a gay thing. Like, hardwired into them that butt sex was going to be awesome no matter what.

Then again, by the way Blaine's ass opened right up for all four fingers, shiny with lube and easily stretched out, Puck figured Blaine was just a slut.

And if Puck knew anything, he knew sluts.

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_x x x x x_

_Finn_

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Blaine turned his head to look at Kurt, his face contorted in confusion and discomfort.

"Finn?" he said, holding up the slip of paper. "Why did you put his name in there?"

"You said anyone, Blaine," Kurt argued.

"But _Finn_? I mean," he said hastily, trying to backtrack. He didn't want to be _rude_. He had nothing against Finn. Not really. He just didn't want to have sex with him. Ever. "I just don't think he'd be interested. Plus, he's like, your brother now. I don't want to have sex with your brother, Kurt. And I doubt there's any way even I could convince him to do anything with me."

"Yeah, huh," Kurt said, obviously unconvinced, but letting Blaine win this one. He wasn't totally comfortable with the idea either, but he hadn't wanted to back down and have Blaine accuse him of not taking the game seriously. "Fine. Finn's off the table. But you can't turn down the next name we pull."

"Fine," Blaine said, relief obvious. He crumpled up the paper with Finn's name on it and put it in the wastepaper basket by the bed.

Kurt plucked out another named from the shoebox.

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_x x x x x_

_Brittana_

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Santana wasn't too impressed by Blaine's looks or charm or talent, and while she liked the challenge of converting a homo explosion like Blaine, it was no fun when they came to _you_.

She was, however, pretty impressed by his bank card, and she figured that she'd let him take her and Britt-Britt out for a night at the 'stix and maybe they'd do a little touchy-touchy in her bedroom for him as a show before she kicked him to the curb.

She hadn't counted on Brittany's enthusiasm.

Brittany seemed so pleased that she'd get the chance to add to her collection of McKinley boys she'd made out with. And while she and Kurt never actually did more than kiss, she had a rather impressive scorecard when it came to having sex with the boys at school. It would be pretty cool if she could add Blaine to the list.

But Santana had told her that Blaine was off limits because he was gay, and probably playing hide-the-sausage with Kurt.

Brittany didn't know what breakfast food had to do with her not being able to put another notch in her bedframe, but she took Santana at her word and had let it go.

Dinner had been fun. Blaine was actually really funny, Brittany thought, even though she didn't understand everything he said, and Santana seemed annoyed by everything that came out of his mouth. Brittany didn't think that really meant anything, though. Santana was annoyed by just about everything and everyone.

That was why Santana, but not Brittany, was surprised when the three teenagers were up in Santana's bedroom with Blaine's mouth on Brittany's clit and his fingers fucking their way up into Santana's pussy.

For a gay guy, he was way good at this. Actually, he was really good at this for a _guy_, no qualifiers necessary.

Brittany giggled into Santana's mouth and bit down on her bottom lip, giving it a good tug.

"I like him," she said, arching her back and moaning when Blaine slipped the fingers on his left hand up between her legs to join his mouth.

"Does your boyfriend know you're fucking the school's only lesbian couple?" Santana panted out bitingly. She didn't want to let him know how turned on she was, but by the smug expression on his face when he lifted his head, mouth slick with Brittany's wetness, she figured he knew.

"Oh, this was Kurt's idea in the first place," he said genially. "Now, would either of you lovely ladies like to fuck me, or shall I do the honors tonight?"

In the end, that was how Blaine had ended up on his back with Brittany between his legs, a vibrant, condom-covered purple dildo hooked up to a harness around her waist.

"Don't blow your load, slick," Santana warned him, kneeling over his head with his mouth pushed up against her cunt. "Brittany's going to want to take a ride soon, and I wouldn't want you to disappoint her."

Brittany pushed into his ass a little harder at that comment and Blaine groaned up into Santana, his tongue practically vibrating inside of her with the sound.

"You like that?" Santana gasped, her hands sliding down Blaine's naked, furry chest to pinch his nipples. She didn't really dig hairy guys as a rule, but as long as he kept doing that thing with his teeth on her clit, she couldn't give a flying fuck about the fact that you could shave him and made a fur coat from the clippings. "You like being our bitch?"

Brittany worked herself into him, her breasts bouncing against her chest as she fucked him harder and harder.

Blaine was babbling something, what, Santana didn't know, so she took her eyes off Brittany long enough to rise up off his face.

"What, hobbit?" she asked.

"She needs to stop," he said, looking completely _wrecked_. His hair was a mess, his eyes were glassy, and his lips were swollen, Santana's juices dripping down his chin. "I'm going to come."

His hands were tied up to the headboard, his fingers grasping at empty air. He pushed his head back into the mattress, hips jerking into Brittany's rocking.

"Oh, sweetie," Santana said wickedly. "I can take care of that." She moved over to the edge of the bed to pull something out of her bedside drawer, and leaned down to fasten it around the base of his erection.

It was a tie-on cockring.

"You're not going anywhere anytime soon," she promised.

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_x x x x x_

_Wes_

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"So how's Yale treating you?" Blaine asked, settling himself down in Kurt's bed, making himself comfortable.

"It's different," Wes admitted, voice somewhat tinny over the phone line, "but I like the challenge. I miss the Warblers, though."

"You mean you miss the gavel," Blaine said, staring at Kurt with a slow smile forming on his face. Even from across the room, he could see Kurt roll his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs.

Wes laughed, the sound filling the room through Blaine's cell, set to speakerphone.

"I've got it right here," Blaine said in almost a purr. "Did you know that the ridges feel _amazing_, even through a condom?"

Wes' laugh cut off into a choking sound. "What?" he wheezed.

"I mean, it's not exactly the same one. But it's really close," Blaine went on. "Maybe a little wider in the handle. But Wes, god, Wes, it feels so good when I fuck myself with it."

Kurt looked like he was about to lose his composure and start laughing, so Blaine headed him off by pulling down his boxers and wrapping his fingers around his balls. Not too tightly, but just tight enough to pull at the too-sensitive skin there, dragging a gasp out from Blaine's lungs.

"I always wondered what it'd be like if you just pushed me down on the desk in the rehearsal room and fucked me with it. Especially after that fiasco at the Gap. I thought for sure, if anything, that would send you over the edge."

"Blaine, are you... _masturbating_?" Wes asked, his voice a horrified squeak.

Blaine loosened his grip, holding himself in a feather-light hold, and used his free hand to stroke up and down his perineum.

"Wes, Wes, Wes, please fuck me. I want your gavel. Please fuck me with your gavel. You can have all the order and control you want," Blaine said, moaning out the words.

"Oh my g—," Wes whispered, sounding far away. His words were cut off, and the background noise of the call vanished abruptly.

"I think he hung up on me, Kurt," Blaine whined, inching his fingers down lower, stroking a fingertip over his asshole.

Kurt shifted in his chair uncomfortably, put down his leg, then crossed the other one. He was definitely hard.

"Keep going, anyway," he said.

Blaine sighed, pushing the tip of his finger inside himself. "Should we try calling him back?"

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_x x x x x_

_Rachel_

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Rachel smelled amazing. She was pretty, but not in a Hollywood way, but in a real, natural sort of way that Blaine always thought, if he liked girls, would be his type.

This was so much more confusing than a drunken kiss during spin the bottle.

It didn't help that Kurt was kissing his neck from behind, sucking what was sure to become a hickey into his skin. Kurt was acting like a vampire, biting down, leaving teeth-marks, and generally marking up Blaine's skin wherever he could touch without Blaine's shirt coming off.

"I thought you were gay," Rachel said, pulling away from the kiss to give Blaine a look, eyes intense and mouth set firm. "I know I'm generally amazing when it comes to any type of performance, and I know that a sexual performance would be no different, but last year you said you were one-hundred percent gay."

"Maybe more like ninety percent gay," Blaine said, shrugging.

That wasn't really the truth, but it wasn't like the thought of having sex with a girl repulsed him. It just didn't do anything for him. There was no spark, nothing like the way it felt when he thought about another guy's hands gripping his hips to the point of bruising, or a heavy cock on his tongue. Nothing like the firm feel of a well-defined chest and broad shoulders on a fit guy.

And that was just the sex of it all. Blaine just didn't _get_ what was so special about girls, romantically speaking. There was no emotional connection when he spent time with a girl. There was no butterflies in his stomach, no moments where he thought he could just sit there and listen to them talk for hours on end and never get bored.

Girls were just fine as friends, and, all right, Kurt's crazy shoebox idea meant he'd had sex with Brittany and Santana, but most of the excitement over that situation had been the thought of telling Kurt all about it after.

Or how, the next night, he'd tied Kurt to the bed, detailing the way the girls had done the same to him. He had fucked Kurt into the mattress while telling him how Brittany couldn't get enough of his ass, how she fucked him until he cried because he had to come so badly it hurt. He'd pushed three fingers into Kurt's mouth, fingerfucking his mouth, telling him how Santana sat on his face and forced him to perform oral on her, and how hot her voice got when she was about to come, deep and growling.

Santana and Brittany had been hot because it was kinky and wrong, because he knew Kurt wanted him to do it. It had been so hot because it was a game to see when he'd back off, or if he would back off at all.

Tina had been easier because she was just a bystander, watching him suck off her boyfriend. There'd been a few moments there when she was touching him, sucking his fingers into her mouth, but his focus was on Mike. And his abs. And his dick.

This was different.

Kurt had pulled Rachel's name and there was some excitement in that. He didn't even have to say anything. Kurt could just tell, somehow. He said there was no way Blaine was going to seduce Rachel, and Blaine thought that was the end of it. Game over.

Then the next day, Kurt cornered him after class and said he'd changed his mind. He wanted Blaine to do it. To talk to Rachel and try to get under her horrific animal-print sweater and offensively plaid skirt.

Privately, Blaine thought her fashion sense was really cute, but by now he knew better than to admit that to Kurt. He had once complimented her on a pair of argyle tights she wore one day, and Kurt had sexiled him until he apologized to fashion and swore on a stack of Vogue back issues that he would never encourage Rachel to dress like that ever again.

Blaine had asked him why he changed his mind and Kurt had scoffed and pushed back his bangs in the way he did when he was about to make up some kind of excuse.

Blaine wasn't _always_ oblivious.

It wasn't that he didn't want Blaine to have sex with Rachel, he'd said, he just didn't want Blaine having sex with Rachel _alone_. So Kurt was going to join them.

Blaine stumbled when Kurt said that, losing his footing and somehow managing to shove himself into a locker without the help of some brainless jock. It wasn't his finest moment.

Blaine still wasn't completely clear on how they'd managed to rope Rachel into this mess. He and Kurt had made excuses about trying to mend bridges, or get over the whole spin the bottle crisis from last year.

He had no idea what they'd said to convince her, especially since Kurt had never held a grudge with either of them for what happened afterward, and the fact that he and Kurt hadn't even been together at the time.

Not that most people knew they were together _now_.

But, somehow, Rachel had gotten it into her head that she was going to act as their relationship counselor. Through sex. Or something.

"Oh my god," Blaine mumbled, his hand slipping up under Rachel's shirt to cup one of her breasts over the bra she wore. He gave it a gentle squeeze, running his thumbnail over the front of the thin material until her nipple started to perk up under the attention.

Rachel sighed prettily into his mouth, and Blaine was all too aware of Kurt plastering himself against his back, of Rachel's mild crush on him that had never really gone away entirely.

(He blamed it on all the duets Mr. Schuester had the two of them doing together in Glee. The quickest way to Rachel's heart was through song. Even _Blaine_ knew that.)

He couldn't do this.

"I can't do this," he said, pulling his hand out and holding it against his chest. "I'm sorry Rachel. You mean too much to me as a friend to use you like this."

Kurt froze behind him.

"I have to go. I'm sorry." Blaine stood, Kurt and Rachel both giving him almost identical looks of hurt and confusion, and he left, waiting until he was out of her house and the door was shut behind him to start running.

It could just be something fun to do for Kurt with Mike and Tina. They came to _him_. And Puck was completely transparent when it came to the way he noticed guys just a little too much to be strictly heterosexual. It wasn't like Puck was any sort of virgin to start with when he was bending Blaine over to fuck. And Santana and Brittany? They knew, almost from the get-go, exactly what they were getting into.

But Rachel was different. Rachel was his friend— his first _real_ friend aside from Kurt. Her virginity was still important to her. And it didn't matter if they weren't going to go all the way, if he was just going to touch her and let her touch him back.

He couldn't do that to her. They had _lied_ to her.

What kind of person was he?

He looked around to see where he'd ended up, not having paid any attention as he ran, and slowly, but steadily, started walking in the direction of Kurt's house. They needed to talk.

And also, his car was sitting in Kurt's driveway, so he'd have to go there to get home anyway.

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"You look like hell."

That was all Kurt said when he answered the door. Blaine didn't know how long he'd been walking around outside, but it had to have been at least an hour. Kurt didn't say so, but Blaine could tell he'd been worried.

"Thanks," Blaine said, frowning. "Can I come in?" He was worried for a minute that Kurt would refuse him, would slap his car keys into his palm and tell him to go home. Right now, Blaine wanted to get inside and get warm. But more than that, he wanted to sit down with Kurt, and figure out where the hell they were going to go from that moment in Rachel's bedroom when he ran out.

Where they were going to go from this stupid game that had gotten way out of hand.

"Yeah," Kurt said, stepping back to make room for Blaine to enter the house.

Blaine thought about saying _I'm sorry_ as shuffled his way inside, but he didn't know what he was sorry for, or if Kurt would even want to hear it.

The sound of the front door closing behind him sounded ten times louder than it actually was, and the proceeding silence was heavy and oppressive in entryway. Blaine hugged his arms across his chest for warmth and stared at Kurt.

Kurt stared back, an uneasy look settling itself on his face. The frown came too easy to him.

"We should go up to my room," Kurt said, shifting his balance from foot to foot.

Blaine dropped his hands and made his way up the staircase, taking what little comfort he could in the sound of Kurt's footsteps following immediately behind him.

"So how pissed off are you?" Kurt said, the second his bedroom door was closed behind them. Not that anyone else was home at the time, but to Blaine, and likely to Kurt as well, it just felt more private and more secure not to have this conversation with the door wide open.

"What?" Blaine said, not understanding at first. "Kurt. I'm not..." he trailed off. "I'm not angry." He shrugged helplessly, then sat down on the edge of Kurt's bed. "But I'm tired of playing this game. It's not— it's not right."

Kurt came over, tentatively sitting down beside him. "Okay," he said, staring at the floor. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Blaine turned to look at him.

"It was my idea in the first place. I'm the one who told you to take Tina up on her offer." Kurt sounded guilty, and upset, and it was breaking Blaine's heart to hear him like that.

"Hey, no," he said, taking his boyfriend's hand. "I went along with it because I wanted to. You suggested it, but I was the one who went along with it. You didn't make me do anything." Kurt didn't look convinced. "I know I don't do it often, but I do know how to tell you no. Promise."

"Was it because you didn't want me there?" Kurt said, looking up to stare Blaine in the eyes.

"Uh. What?" He was lost.

"Walking out on Rachel. You had no problem having sex with anyone else we picked out. The only thing that was different this time was that I was there."

Kurt, normally so loud and confident, sounded impossibly small at that moment.

"What? No. God, no." Blaine turned to wrap his arms around Kurt's waist. A second later, Kurt reciprocated the touch, resting his arms across Blaine's shoulders. "Kurt. The only thing that was different this time was that what we were doing was wrong. We _lied_ to Rachel, Kurt. And," he said, ducking his head to make Kurt look at him, "after you, Rachel's my best friend. I don't want to hurt her.

"I probably already have," he admitted with a guilty frown.

"You like her," Kurt said, hooking one of his arms so he could play with Blaine's hair.

"Oh my _god_," said Blaine, finally getting it. "You're _jealous_."

Kurt rolled his eyes so hard Blaine thought they would fall out. "And you're clueless."

"Baby, you don't have anything to be jealous about. I really like Rachel, sure. But I love _you_. I'm _in love_ with _you_." Blaine adopted his best sincere expression.

Kurt closed his eyes and sighed, then lifted his eyelids to stare. "I believe you," he said. "And don't call me 'baby'."

Blaine smiled, gently pushing Kurt backwards, down into the soft bed. "You don't mean that, baby."

"Oh, I think I do," Kurt shot back, but he was smiling now, too.

"Our game was fun while it lasted, but I don't want to play it anymore," Blaine confessed, curling up on his side to rest his head on Kurt's chest.

"Yeah. Me either." Kurt's fingers stroked through Blaine's curls, and he leaned his head down to plant a kiss on the top of his head.

Blaine rested a hand on Kurt's hip, holding himself up close against his body. "Are you going to be okay tomorrow when I sit next to Rachel in Glee?"

Kurt gasped dramatically. "I knew you were leaving me for her, you hussy." His fingers tightened to make a playful tug at Blaine's hair.

"Shut up," Blaine said through a laugh. "I need to apologize to her, and you know as well as I do—" he said.

"—the way to crack through Rachel's insane exterior is to sing at her. I know."

"Well, I was going to say it's the way to her heart, but I guess what you said works too." Blaine conceded. "Not that I'd ever say that to her face."

Blaine pushed himself up to kiss Kurt, leaving his eyes open to see his expression as their lips met.

"And maybe...?"

Kurt sighed. "Fine. I'll apologize to her, too."

"Thank you. I can't have my boyfriend on the outs with my girlfriend." Blaine quickly regretted the joke when Kurt rolled them over, pushing Blaine onto his back, and started tickling him with a vicious relentlessness.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Blaine cried out, squirming under the onslaught. "Stop, I'm kidding! Kurt!"

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Maybe everything wasn't perfect, and maybe they still had things to fix between them after everything, but Blaine figured that the game was over, and he and Kurt would work things out.

But if Kurt ever wanted to pick the shoebox back up, maybe add some names to it, _Kurt_ could be the one to have sex with all their friends.

And they were _definitely_ leaving out Finn's name, no matter what Kurt said.

.

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**Spoiler Pairings:** Blaine/Mike(/Tina), Blaine/Puck, Blaine/Brittany/Santana, Blaine/Wes/gavel, Kurt/Blaine/Rachel.

Established Mike/Tina and Santana/Brittany.

Mentions of Blaine/Rachel and Kurt/Finn.

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_Comments/Reviews/'You-Missed-a-Word's always welcome. *hearts* I hope you enjoyed this._


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